


Silence

by karefreekiwi



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-11
Updated: 2013-04-11
Packaged: 2017-12-08 05:06:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/757392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karefreekiwi/pseuds/karefreekiwi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave suffers from nightmares that he just can't seem to shake. Each one is different in their own ways, but the theme never changes--He loses his brother. And it kills him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silence

It all started with silence--pulsing, deafening silence. It flowed through Dave's veins; he could feel it lingering at the edge of his consciousness, sweeping over everything like a tidal wave and bathing every image and surface in mind-numbing silence. He stood on the roof of his apartment; every detail startlingly precise, down to the crack in the paved floor where his first fight had started--and ended. The sun beat down onto him, heat waves reflecting off the scorching cement and warming his bare arms. The cold sweat started. Silence began to cloud his mind, wrapping around his thoughts like a cobra, until the only thing left for him to grasp onto was the view of the rooftop in front of him.

“Dave.”

The voice was no more than a whisper. He felt it, hot and warm against his ear, and it shook him to the very core. Goosebumps stood to attention on his skin, despite the all too realistic heat that was enveloping him. He wanted to wake up, wanted to shut it out, his fists clenched at his sides.

“Dave.”

The voice rose, panic laced in its simple call. Dave stumbled back. The realization hit him hard in the gut, his breath abandoning him for a moment. The voice was more than recognizable, it was familiar.

His brother.

“Bro.” He breathed out. The scene before him wavered, grey cement becoming splattered with the sickeningly bright color of blood. The metallic smell wafted through the air, suffocating him.

“You couldn't save me.”

He felt the voice against his ear, the presence of his brother weighing him down like an anchor, holding him under and drowning him. Dave closed his eyes tightly, just wanting to wake up. “Please, please. Just wake up. Wake up!” His mind screamed. Red eyes flickered open again, and the sight before him sent him crashing to his knees.

His brother. 

Dead.

Bro lay in a pool of his own blood, filled with the life that had left him. His body was pale; still. In his chest, a sword had been sheathed, the same sword he had used to strife so many times before. Dave felt the bile rise in his throat. He could sense his brother's weight on his shoulder. It crushed him like a vice. The voice came faster now, louder; filled with anger and rage and laced with horrible, terrible disappointment.

“Dave, you couldn't save me.” Dave felt like he'd been shot. “You're so weak.” He flinched violently. “You let me down.” He gripped his head in his hands. “You're such a disappointment.”

“No.” He could feel the tears staining his face; could feel the sobs wracking his body. He screamed, sobbed, cried until he felt his eyes were bleeding. His brother's voice filled his mind. Dave wished for silence, wished to wake up, or to never wake up again. “No! No, no, no!” He screamed until his voice was gone; until he felt his lungs collapse. Bro's voice echoed painfully loud inside his mind. It pulsed in his ears, choked him and crushed him. And then it was gone. Just like that, the silence overtook again. Everything settled. Everything was still.

A whisper was all it took.

“I hate you.”

Gasping, Dave's eyes shot open. He swallowed desperately, like a fish out of water, his lungs starving for air. Stumbling out of bed, he made it halfway across his room before dropping to his knees with a heave, letting go the contents of his last meal. He clutched at his stomach. His eyes burned from crying, head throbbed from screaming, and all he wanted to do was let go. Sleep, and never wake up. He doubled over, face in his knees. One part of him wished that Bro was home--to comfort him, keep him safe, remind him that he's still alive. Another part of him prayed to whoever was up in the sky, whoever was looking down on him, laughing at his pain, prayed that Bro wouldn't see him like this--so broken, so weak. It made him sick; disgusted with himself. His heart thumped painfully against his ribs as adrenaline pumped through his veins like heroin. Everything hurt. He barely had the strength to think, so he didn't. Instead, he crawled away from the vomit on the floor, curling in on himself and staring at the sword leaning against the opposite wall. Dave would sleep; he would wait, and his brother would come home.

“Dave.” The voice of his brother sent a faint shiver up his spine, sending him back to the dream again. It was only when he opened his eyes did his mind and body register its surroundings, the floor of his bedroom, awake and all too conscious. Slowly, he rolled over, cringing at the stiffness of his muscles.

“Oh, hey.”

Bro stood in the doorway, looking down at him, brows raised ever so slightly in confusion. After a moment of trying to figure his little brother out, he shook his head, the amusement clear in his voice.

“Do I even wanna know why you're passed out on the floor?”

“Probably not.” Dave shrugged and rolled onto his back, staring blankly at the ceiling. Bro sighed.

“Just checkin' up on you. The gig ended late last night, sorry 'bout that.” Dave didn't reply, he already knew. It wasn't like it was a rare occurrence. “I got pizza if you're hungry.” Still no reply. Bro eyed the carpet with suspicion, the small puddle of what looked to be vomit catching his concern. “You sick or somethin'?” Dave groaned, rolling over onto his stomach, face pressed against the faded white carpet. Bro took this as a suitable response, brushing it off as normal, petty, teenage angst and leaving the room with a good-natured shrug. As soon as he was gone, Dave breathed deeply. The intense relief he felt disagreed with the guilt in the pit of his stomach, and he hadn't realized just how conflicted he felt until Bro had finally left. He peeled himself off of the carpet, stretching slowly and listening as every bone in his body cracked into place. His skin was slick with sweat, the ever-present reminder of the scorching Texan heat and the AC that his brother absolutely refused to fix, though they had more than enough money to spare. Running a hand through his damp bangs, he shuffled his way to the bathroom, stepping carefully over the vomit with a groan. He'd Febreze the life out of it later, but his sluggish mind wasn't ready to deal with anything quite yet. 

Dave dragged himself through the bathroom door, tensing as the icy tile met with the bottoms of his feet before continuing to the sink. He moved almost mechanically; this wasn't the first time a bad dream (that's just what it was, he reminded himself--a dream) had shaken him up and knocked him off his balance. Dave had been plagued by unnaturally vivid nightmares since he was old enough to sleep in his own bed. His brother hadn't been concerned with the behavior, believing it was normal until Dave had come into his room one stormy night, face stained red and splotchy with tears, clinging to him with every piece of hope a six year old could have and repeating, over and over, “You're alive.” At thirteen years old, Dave assured his brother that the dreams had disappeared--and they had, for a little while. When they flooded his mind again with gruesome images that left him wheezing and clutching to his sweat-stained pillow, he hadn't bothered to let anyone know. He was raised to deal with this. He would deal with it, and he wasn't about to let Bro down.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not exactly sure where I'm going to take this, if I'm going to take it anywhere, and comments/ideas would definitely be appreciated! Tags might be changed or added at a later date, same with the summary.


End file.
